Trick Or Treat
by born30
Summary: When Sark and Sydney go on a Halloween mission, will it be a trick or a treat?


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias or any of its characters. Everything belongs to J.J. & Co.  
**A/N:** Set after _The Counteragent_, Sark is working at SD-6.  
When Sark and Sydney go on a Halloween mission, will it be a trick or a treat?

"Did you transmit the DNA sample?"

Sark handed her a flute of champagne and scoffed. "Was there ever a doubt?"

Accepting the drink, Sydney took a sip. It was the expensive stuff – Dom Perignon or Krug. Only the best would do for partying terrorists, it seemed.

His distinct accent flowed through the din of the outdoor event, as smooth as the cool liquid coating her dry throat. "Shall I call for the extraction, or would you prefer to stay a while?"

"Stay for what? We completed our mission."

"That we did." He emphasized the collective _we_, as he often did now, a subtle reminder of their continuing success as partners at SD-6.

"Besides…" She shut her eyes to block out the flashing orange and black lantern lights from the party. "If one more guy purrs at me or– "

"You're a beautiful woman, Sydney."

Her lids rose in time to see his ice blue gaze raking over her, adding to the chill that the brisk autumn wind had already conjured.

"And that cat costume leaves very little to the imagination."

Rolling her eyes and aiming for non-chalance, Sydney sighed. "Charming."

"Most women think so."

"I'm sure you pay them well."

He leaned forward, a wry smile on his lips. "Are you teasing me, Miss Bristow?"

Exhaling a short laugh, she handed her glass back to him. "Let's go."

* * *

Moonlight spilled across the bay, leaving the pair nestled in the shadows along the shoreline. The small, nameless island, home to yet another one of Arvin Sloane's partners in crime, was miles out to sea, only accessible by boat, and their ride back to civilization was nowhere in sight.

"An hour? Did he really say it would take that long?"

"Afraid so, Sydney. How do you suggest we spend the time?"

Ignoring his suggestive tone, she adjusted the headband that held her tasteful cat ears in place. "If it wasn't so bright and noisy, I'd say we could go back to the party."

"I agree." Sark removed the slim masquerade mask from his face and shoved it into the pocket of his tuxedo. "Dreadful party, celebrating a dreadful holiday."

Sydney knew better than to take the bait, but her curiousity won out. "All right. What's wrong with Halloween?"

"I simply don't see the purpose."

She crossed her arms her over chest, covering the modest 'V' of skin her costume exposed there. "Be fun for once, Sark."

"I don't recall you having fun back there, Sydney."

"I enjoyed it when I was a kid." Seeing only his vacant stare in response, she persisted. "Didn't you dress up and go trick-or-treating?"

"No. They didn't provide for such frivolity at boarding school."

"Oh, no." She dramatically placed the back of her hand to her forehead. "Not the boarding school sob story again. Spare me."

"What do mean _again_?"

Working with Julian Sark was the last thing Sydney had ever planned on enjoying, but she could no longer ignore the personal connection – the spark – that had formed between them during the countless missions they had shared over the past few months.

"Halloween was the one night of the year when I could dress up and be somebody else," she said, disregarding his question. "I didn't have to be Sydney Bristow, the girl who lost her mother and whose father was always away on—What are you doing?"

Sark had placed a cupped hand around her ear and directed her sights out across the dark water. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? The boat?"

"Listen. Far off in the distance, you can just make out the strains of a finely-tuned sob story coming on."

She playfully jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "Fine. I won't tell you about it then."

"Come now, I promise to behave. Halloween, dress up, little Sydney… all fascinating." Oddly enough, Sark had yet to break a promise to her.

"You forgot trick-or-treating," she added, dropping her miffed attitude.

"Silly me. Which was…?"

"After putting on a costume, you would go door-to-door collecting candy, which were the treats."

Taking a moment to ponder the information, Sark took a step toward her. "What happens if you have no treats to hand out?"

"Then the kids play a trick on you."

"I see." His eyes flashed with mischief and daring in the dim light. It was a hard combination to resist. "Trick or treat?"

Sydney raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Sark?"

"I'd knock, but you might punch back, so… trick or treat?"

Her disapproving pout was meant to discourage him, but it only seemed to render the opposite effect.

"Oh, _be fun for once_, Sydney. Trick or—"

"What if I don't have any treats?"

"Then I believe I have license to trick."

She chuckled. "Oh, no you don't."

A gust of wind rustled the trees, releasing a shower of dry leaves over their heads.

"Surely you have have something…sweet…to offer." Sark reached up and brushed a leaf from her hair, his fingers trailing gently over her cheek. "A lovely creature like yourself."

Maybe it was the champagne or the moonlight, but Sydney felt… bewitched. She knew better though. The man at her side, the one with the dazzling smile and smoldering stare, was casting the spell. Enchanted, she leaned into his touch, the sudden rush of the waves matching the speed of her racing heart. But her hesitation lasted only a second before she drew him close, tasting his lips on hers for the first time.

Breaking away, Sark held her gaze as a delighted smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. "Tell me, Sydney. Is this a trick or a treat?"

She bit her bottom lip and melted into his warm embrace. "I thought you didn't like Halloween."

"More treats like this could change my mind… about many things." The second kiss she offered was just as sweet as the first, leaving no doubt his mind. "Definitely a treat."

**The End**


End file.
